


The Blood Cure

by Rosewood_Writes



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Blood and Gore, Corpses, Gen, Graphic Description, Graphic Description of Corpses, Zombie Apocalypse, Zombies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2019-09-01 12:31:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16765216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosewood_Writes/pseuds/Rosewood_Writes
Summary: The Temple of Sacred Ashes lies in ruin. The dead rise to hunt the living. A foul sickness has begun to spread across Thedas, driving the infected mad. And in the center of it all, Assan must find a way to help the inquisition stem the tide of undead, and hope that his blood holds the cure to end the madness.





	1. Awake

**Author's Note:**

> This series is my biggest project to date. Any and all suggestions are appreciated. I have a few open positions for Beta Readers if anyone is interested!

“He’s moving…!”  
“Keep steady. We don’t know what will happen once he’s fully conscious.”  
Assan groaned as he heard the words. They came at him slowly, echoing as though coming at him through a tunnel. All he could feel was cold floor pressed against his cheek. His head was throbbing. Something was digging into his wrists and ankles. What’s going on?   
Slowly, he pushed himself to his knees, wincing as cold metal handcuffs dug into his wrists. He was in a dimly lit room. Through the darkness he could see storage crates and pallets---some kind of store room? Surrounding him were close to twenty soldiers, all pointing their guns at him. His ankles were chained together, nailed to a spike in the floor. Creators, what have I gotten myself into now? He thought to himself.  
“Finally awake?” A harsh voice asked.  
A woman walked into his line of sight. She loomed over him, aiming her rifle right at his forehead. A shiver ran down his spine as he looked up the barrel of the gun, painfully aware of her finger sitting loosely on the trigger. What the fuck is happening?  
“What’s going on?” Assan demanded, though it came out sounding more like a nervous croak. Several of the soldiers snickered.   
“You damn well know what’s going on!” The woman snapped, kicking him to the floor. He grunted as his head struck the concrete. Stars danced before his eyes. He could hear the woman’s heavy boots stomping toward him. “Tell me how you did this!”   
“Did what?” Assan snarled.   
Another kick to his back was his answer. He hissed as a sharp pain shot up his side. He could hear a faint hitch in her breath; she was failing to keep composure. Something had deeply upset her, and he was apparently tied in with it. If only he could remember what he'd done.   
“You will explain this to me now, or so help me, I will kill you,” She snarled, pressing the barrel of her gun against his cheek. A shiver went down his spine as the cold metal touched his skin. The Keeper and the Hahrens had warned him before he left about the ruthlessness of humans. Leave it to his rotten luck to ensure that he experienced their tales first hand.   
“You tell me what’s going on, and I’ll answer your damn question,” Assan said slowly. “Last I recall, I was standing in the temple, listening to the discussions. What. Happened?”  
“If you don't know what's going on, then explain the mark.”  
“I don’t even know what you're talking about! What mark?!” Assan cried. He couldn’t even see his hands. The longer he sat with the gun to his cheek, the more he feared she would pull the trigger if he didn't say what he wanted.  
“Cassandra, that's enough!” Another woman spoke up. The gun pulled away from his cheek with a sharp jerk. A relieved sigh escaped him despite his best efforts to conceal it. A red haired woman helped him to a kneeling position. She looked him dead in the eyes, her face grim. “Do you remember anything---anything at all---about what happened up there? People, conversations, objects that seemed out of place?”  
Assan paused, trying his best to recall anything of importance. He remembered painting over his vallaslin, sneaking into the temple with a few other elven servants to hear the talks, and then…. “I remember… a helicopter? There was more than one, I think. Sounded like heavy duty ones, not just any commercial choppers. A few guards went to investigate, but after that it goes black.”  
“There's nothing else? Did you see anyone suspicious, or where they shouldn't be?”  
“I was… running?” A shiver ran down Assan’s back. Yes, he remembered running as fast as he could, with shadows at his heels. “There was something... chasing me. But then there's nothing more. I'm sorry. Now will you tell me what's going on?”  
The two women were silent for a moment. They exchanged defeated glances before Cassandra spoke “The Divine was trying to settle things between the mages and templars.... Then, the whole building was blown to pieces. A foul disease is spreading everywhere. In the midst of the chaos, we found you, healthy, but unconscious. Everyone else was either dead or sick.”   
“What does any of this have to do with me?” Assan asked. Did they think he was responsible?   
“There is a strange machine in the middle of the blast zone; we believe that it is the cause of the sudden outbreak. Hoards of people are now roaming the streets, hysterical and deranged. The dead hunt the living. You are the only one in a state fit to interrogate. We want to know what happened.”   
Assan stared down at his hands. He couldn’t remember anything. No machine, no explosion, and certainly no sick people. A nasty, rippling scar cut diagonally across the palm of his left hand, something that definitely hadn’t been there at the start of the day. Was this the mark Cassandra had asked about? He looked between the two women, seeing how desperate they were for answers. Answers that he just didn’t have.   
“I don’t understand….” He said finally.   
“I think… we better show you, if you truly don’t know,” Cassandra turned and addressed her companion. “Go to the front line, Leliana. We will meet you there.”   
The red haired woman drew the hood of her purple sweatshirt and nodded as she pulled a gas mask over her face. “Be careful, Cassandra.”   
She turned and left the room, followed by most of the soldiers. Cassandra unlocked the shackles around Assan’s ankles and gave him a look that clearly said “if you try anything, you’re a dead man” before unlocking the handcuffs. Assan rubbed his wrists. He doubted he would get very far with six armed soldiers and an even more heavily armed woman escorting him if he tried to run. They had him cornered.   
They pushed him from the room, guiding him down the hall. Soldiers ran to and from the various other store rooms. Not a single one’s face wasn’t grim as they carried supplies from one room to another. They stopped momentarily to let a line of soldiers carrying gurneys covered in white cloths pass by. A mangled hand hung limply from one of the gurneys, missing a great deal of flesh and a few fingers. The soldiers escorting Assan muttered amongst themselves, shifting with unease. A small trail of blood drops followed the gurneys. The sight made Assan’s stomach churn. Cassandra led the group onward, up the stairs to the next level.  
They were in a hospital, but there wasn’t that usual feel to it. It was depressed, despaired. The main power supply was off, so only the emergency lights run by the generators were on, which definitely didn’t help with the atmosphere. The windows were all boarded up, covered in thick planks of wood and metal sheeting, only making the building darker---not so much as a single shred of sky was visible. Not even the emergency lanterns or candles hanging from the walls did much to help pierce the gloom.   
Aside from soldiers patrolling, few people lingered in the empty halls. Those that stood scattered about in the shadows kept their heads down, muttering to each other. As they passed, their heads would snap up, eyes glaring at Assan from under hoods and helmets. After a moment of staring daggers, they would return to their hushed conversations. The guards closed in around Assan, shooting warning stares at anyone who looked or lingered too long as they passed.  
“Keep a fast pace, Elf,” One of the guards whispered. “Most of these folks blame you for this mess.”  
“Yeah, I got that feeling….” Assan muttered.   
Most of the doors to the rooms were open, filled with civilians huddled in groups as they wept or prayed. The corridors echoed with the sounds of hundreds of lamenting voices. Priests were chanting and singing, their voices hollow and void of the usual power and beauty he had once come to expect of the Chantry.  
The group slowed as they passed through the reception area for the maternity ward. A large painting of the Divine had been hung on one of the walls. A Revered Mother and several sisters stood before a moderate crowd, leading a eulogy as those gathered wailed and sobbed. Candles and offerings sat on every available surface. The soldiers dipped their heads in respect as they passed through.   
“Maker guide you, Most Holy,” Cassandra muttered, wiping a tear from her eye before it fell down her cheek.  
The mournful singing and keening faded away as they continued on through the ward towards the next level. A line of soldiers stopped them as they neared the stairs. A gas mask hung around each of their necks. They stood up straighter as they spotted Cassandra and saluted.   
“Lady Cassandra.” They all said.   
“We are taking the prisoner to the roof,” Cassandra said.   
“Very well, Lady Cassandra.” One of the soldiers thrust a mask into Assan's hands before he stepped aside to let them pass. Assan turned the mask over, unsure of why he would need such a thing. If people were sick, surely something like this was a little extreme? They ascended to the next floor, encountering less civilians, but more soldiers. Up here, the doors were all shut. No one was singing, or praying. It was eerily quiet, save for the hushed mutters coming from some of the rooms The air up here was stale, reeking of rotten flesh and bile.   
“You said there were lots of sick people. We’re in a hospital, but everyone looks healthy to me for the most part. Where are the sick?” Assan asked.   
One of the soldiers gave a sharp laugh and thumbed over his shoulder at the closed off windows. “You don’t want the sick in this building, Elf. They’re out there for a reason.”  
Assan opened his mouth to inquire further, but a comotion up ahead caught his attention. More soldiers with gurneys were gathered around a mage, bickering with one another. The men holding the gurneys bounced from foot to foot, eager to set down their cargo.  
“I have no more room for bodies on this floor; all other corpses are being sent to the basement for storage until we finish examining the ones we have here,” The mage said tiredly. “Can’t you people communicate with one another? This is the fifth time I’ve had to turn bodies away in the last hour. I have work to do and every second spent pointlessly arguing with you here is less time I have to properly examine the bodies before decay starts to set in.”   
“No one’s said a word about dumping the stiffs in the basement,” One of the soldiers growled. “You mages are the ones that can’t communicate. We just carried these bodies up three flights of stairs. The least you could do is be grateful. They aren’t light, you know.”   
The two continued to bicker back and forth. Two other mages stepped out of the room to support their companion. Cassandra huffed out an impatient sigh and marched ahead, barking at the soldiers. They jumped at the sight of her barreling towards them, fists balled up and her lip curled up in a slight snarl. Assan raised a hand to his lips to keep from snickering at the sight.  
“Lady Cassandra!” They said. One of them dropped their side of a gurney in their haste to salute. The other soldiers shouted in alarm as it tipped and the body tumbled to the floor. Assan had to bend over against the wall as he looked the corpse over. His stomach lurched, threatening to expel what little there was in it.   
The woman’s throat and stomach looked like they had been eaten by wolves. Claw marks covered her arms and sides, but they didn’t look like those of any beast he’d ever seen. They looked eerily human. Her eyes were milky and yellowed, a perpetual look of twisted agony and terror frozen on her face.   
“Creators, what the hell did that?” Assan asked.   
“Biters,” One of the soldiers behind him said as she patted his back. “That’s why the sick are out there and not in here.”  
“You’re telling me a person did all that?” Assan looked over his shoulder at her, eyes wide in horror. He could see her own face was as pale as his. The other soldiers shifted away from the sight as the mages dragged the body into the room, out of sight.   
“Make sure you tell all the others that I ordered the bodies to be sent to the basement to be stored,” Cassandra said to the soldiers. “Dismissed.”  
“Right away, Lady Cassandra!” With a scurry, the soldiers departed. Cassandra motioned for her retinue to continue onward after apologizing to the mages. Once the room was out of earshot, Cassandra leaned down to whisper in Assan’s ear.  
“Do you see now why we had you chained?” She said.  
“I think so,” Assan answered. “What drove people to this?”  
“You will see soon enough. Come; to the roof, first.”  
They stopped before the entrance to the roof access. The soldiers took up position on either side of the door, slipping their masks onto their faces. Cassandra motioned for Assan to go first once she had unlocked the door. He started up the stairs, noticing how uneasy the air felt once the door shut behind them. Only three of the six soldiers accompanied them up the stairs. The muffled sounds of screams and wails made the hairs on his neck stand on end. He slowed his pace, dreading reaching the roof. Did he really want to see what had happened?   
Cassandra stopped him halfway up the stairs. She slipped her gas mask over her face. “Put your mask on before we go any further.”  
“Why do I need this?” He pulled the mask on, but it did little to make him feel any safer. Was the disease airborne? Would the mask really make any difference?  
“We believe we are far enough away, but it is better safe than sorry at this point,” Cassandra said, continuing up the stairs towards the door to the roof.  
“Far enough away from what?”  
“The Gas,” She replied. Assan decided it best to not put it off any longer. He needed to see what they were talking about. Cassandra unlocked the door, slowly ushering him and the other soldiers through it.   
His heart stopped for a few seconds as he stared out at the city. Many of the buildings had their windows blown out, as though a giant shockwave had shattered them all. Some buildings had entire chunks missing; roofs had the shingles stripped away. Downed power lines sparked and crackled, showering the ground with sparks. The streets were littered with trash and debris, and the occasional corpse. Assan turned in a circle, drinking in the devastation.  
He stopped when he saw the light in the distance.   
Several miles away, by the wreckage of what once had been a beautiful old temple, an eerie green light glowed. A sickly green mist billowed out from the ruins, rolling down the hills and towards the edge of the small city. Strange shrieks and cries came from the mist, and down below in the streets. He could see people shambling through the streets now, banging against the walls of the buildings, tearing at themselves as they screamed and howled.   
“What is that?” He asked quietly.   
“We don’t know,” Cassandra confessed. “So far, all we know is that something exploded, killing everyone there, except for you. The Divine, the others participating in the peace talks--- all dead. The shock wave reached out for miles, causing all the destruction you see. Then, the Gas came. At first, people were just sick, but within a matter of hours, those exposed to the gas went feral, attacking anyone in sight, like the corpse you just saw. We locked down the hospital and a few nearby buildings when their numbers grew too great for us to manage. We have not dared to attempt any further investigations to the temple since.   
“There is a machine in the midst of the ruins that we discovered before the lockdown. No one knows what it is, or how it survived the blast, but it is the source of the gas. Reports are pouring in from all over Ferelden, describing the same machines emitting this strange gas, though none are as large as this.”  
“What exactly is the gas? A poison?” Assan just couldn’t wrap his head around any of it. He’d heard of chemicals that could drive people to this level of madness, but for it to be in such large quantities just didn’t make sense. People would notice movements of that kind of substance in large amounts.   
“It is a sickness; it turns the living into rabid cannibals. Those that die of disease come back to kill again. No one has shown immunity to the disease. Except for you.”  
Assan looked over at her and frowned. “Me?”  
“Our scouts found you at the epicenter; right in the thickest of the gas by the machine. Your hand was badly lacerated,” Cassandra stared out at the source of the fog, a mix of desperation and defeat in her eyes. “We kept you in isolation for several hours, but when it became clear that you weren’t showing any signs after the typical time frame, we knew you had to be immune. You could be our one hope of stopping this.”  
“Immune…?” Assan stared down at the scar on his palm. He flexed his fingers and wrist slightly, at least glad that it hadn’t damaged any nerves. It seemed like now would be a bad time to be down one hand.  
“We wish to go back again; to investigate the machine further,” Cassandra said. “We need you to go with us.”  
“Why me?”  
“We hoped you would know something about it. Even now that it is apparent you know nothing, having you there could lead us to something important,” Cassandra turned to him, her eyes pleading despite what appeared to be her best attempt at keeping a calm expression. “We need your help.”  
“Still think I did this?” Assan asked, crossing his arms.   
“I am beginning to doubt your involvement.” A slight scowl twitched at her lips. She stuck her hand out. “Help us?”   
Assan thought about it for a minute. He’d be willingly going out there into a horde of cannibals and a miasma of toxic gas that resurrected the dead. But if his blood held a possible cure---or even just a clue to help find one---to help stop this before it escalated any further, he’d be stupid not to try.  
“Alright; I’ll help.” Assan shook Cassandra's hand. Hopefully, he wasn't about to march right to his doom.  
A relieved smile broke through the terse frown she wore. “Come; we need to speak with the others, and get everyone rounded up to head out. We leave at sun down.”


	2. Trapped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that Assan's awake, Cassandra takes her group out of the hospital and into the streets to rendesvous with the helicopter to head up to the temple. But their suposedly safe run quickly goes sour when they encounter a pack of infected citizens.

“What happened to the equipment I had when your men found me?” Assan leaned back against the wall, watching as Cassandra set a pistol and two extra clips down on the crate beside him. He picked up the gun and started to strap the holster to his waist. “I had a gun already, and a compound bow and arrows.”  
“You had nothing on you when you were brought to me.” Cassandra stopped him and pointed to the pile of clothes and what looked like riot gear on the crate beside the gun. “Change first; you need something more… durable on.”  
“This all seems a little excessive, don’t you think?” Assan chuckled as he ran his hand over the thick, winter military uniform. At least it looked warm. There were, in fact, pieces of riot gear thrown in: thick kevlar arm and shin guards, a vest, and a helmet. What was the worst that the sick could do to him? Cough on him? His thoughts wandered back to the corpse he had just seen upstairs. His smile faltered. “Actually, nevermind. I’ll change. But, if I’m going up against crazies and zombies, I want a bow on my back, not just this little pistol here. Guns tend to draw attention, ya know?”  
“We don’t just have bows lying around. We're military trained soldiers, not backwoods hunters bagging bucks,” One of the soldiers laughed. “Just stick with the gun, Elf. You’re lucky we’re even giving you a weapon.”  
Assan scowled as he grabbed the clothes. He stepped behind the wall of crates to change. Sure, he couldn't remember much of the last several hours, but he would have remembered leaving every last bit of his equipment somewhere. Someone had to have taken his stuff.  
The military uniform was nicely lined, making it soft and warm to the touch. He hadn’t realized how cold he’d been in just his jeans and jacket. He pulled on the shin and arm pads, then slid the vest on over his shirt. He twisted side to side, testing his mobility. The extra padding made it a little harder to move, but hopefully it wouldn’t hinder him too much.  
“So, there was really nothing on me at all when they found me? The soldiers didn’t seize the gun I already had strapped at my hip, or the knives I definitely had in my pocket and on my belt before this happened? I don't remember much, but I know I didn't just leave it laying around. I may just be a ‘backwoods hunter’, but I know better than to leave perfectly good weapons just laying around for someone to stumble upon and take.” He stepped out as he pulled the jacket on over the bulky vest. There was a small pause as Cassandra shot a very accusing glare at the soldiers present. They avoided her gaze, finding interest in the floor or finding the perfect alignment of their gloves and sleeves. Gotcha, Assan thought to himself.  
“We will track down your equipment when we return, or requisition replacements,” Cassandra said, handing him his mask. “Are you feeling well?”  
“Fine, now. Why?” Assan asked. He didn’t like the way she had asked, as though their departure hinged on his ability to move if needed. The other soldiers seemed to tense up, as well, as though they knew something he didn’t.  
Her response was not exactly as clarifying as he hoped. “There are too many infected on this side of town. We have to rendezvous with the helicopters at our secondary staging ground at the police station.”  
“And how exactly are we getting there?” A chill went down his spine. Surely she didn’t mean…? “Let me get this straight: I wake up chained to the floor because there’s a sickness turning people crazy. The windows are boarded up, exits blocked, doors locked to keep them out… and we’re going outside? Where they are, as you said, in great numbers?”  
Cassandra nodded her head affirmatively, apparently not seeing anything wrong with his repetition. “We have channels for us to go through that are relatively free of biters and corpses. We had to have a way to get through to our other bases to maintain communication while the radios are down.”  
“How long was I unconscious?” Assan asked. If this had only happened a few hours ago, then it couldn’t be possible for the hospital to be as well fortified as it was, or for them to establish safe trails for agents to go through the streets without being attacked. Panic began to well up inside him. If things were this bad here, how bad were they back home?  
“Four days,” Cassandra answered. “The scar on your hand took healers two days to finally get sealed. By then you were barely alive, white as a sheet. Many thought you would not make it, myself included.”  
Assan looked down at his hand, a shudder running down his spine. The nasty jagged thing felt warm to the touch, tingling under his fingertips as if full of energy. The sensation made him loathe it. “Do you know what caused it?”  
“Not currently. That is another reason why we wish to return to the temple.”  
Assan pulled the gloves on over his hands, wrinkling up his nose as he clenched his hand. He could feel it prickling and tingling even through the thick leather. Hopefully the feeling would go away with time. “So, what now?”  
“Now, we head to the police station to meet with the others.” Cassandra pulled her mask down over her face and put on her helmet. The soldiers and Assan followed suit. Taking up their position around Assan, they left the store rooms.  
Once on the ground floor, they made their way back up to the second story. In the time that it had taken for him to get a meal and change, everyone seemed to have disappeared. The hallways were deserted, every doorway shut. Despite how nice it was to not have total strangers giving him the death stare, the emptiness gave the building a whole new level of despair and eeriness.  
“Where did everybody go?” Assan asked.  
“It’s curfew; everyone is in their rooms for the night,” Cassandra answered.  
“I’m guessing it helps cut down on thievery?”  
“That is a good reason, but not the main one.” Her expression darkened as she spoke. “The first night was a disaster. Had our soldiers and some civilians not reacted so quickly, we would have been overwhelmed. It takes time for the disease to set in, and many managed to get through our initial checkpoint areas. As the infection set in, they began to attack people left and right, turning those they did not kill. Those that died at the hands of the infected came back to attack once more. Many of the civilians were locked down in the store rooms with almost no food or water for two days before we finally managed to purge the infected from the building and perimeter.”  
Assan shuddered at the thought. How many people had died, or fallen ill in these cramped hallways? How many were locked into rooms, listening to the chaos on the other side, or unable to escape the monsters they were stuck inside with? The world had quickly become a nightmare none of them could wake from. Nothing made sense anymore, and nowhere was truly safe, it seemed.  
Cassandra patted his shoulder bracingly. “The way to the station has been kept clear for the last twenty-four hours. It should be an uneventful run. The last couple days of laying low have scattered most of the large groups in the city.” 

The wind had picked up since their last trip up to the roof, coming in bitter cold, sharp gusts. The sun was setting now, casting long shadows over everything. Assan pulled the thick winter jacket he wore closer around him, glad for its warmth. Cassandra was busy casing the perimeter of the building below to ensure the coast was clear for them to proceed. It was a wonder they could see in the waning light.  
At last, Cassandra motioned to Assan that it was time to go. The other soldiers gathered around the fire escape. Three of the six soldiers went down the ladder first. With a gentle nudge from Cassandra, Assan followed them down. She and the last of her retinue followed close behind. Every clank and creak the old metal rungs made as they moved made Assan’s heart jump up into his throat. Creators, why did everything have to seem so deafeningly loud all of a sudden? Even his breathing sounded too loud.  
Tentatively, he stepped off the final ladder onto the ground. There were three overturned vehicles on their side, blocking off the street access. To the left, the alleyway was open, leading around the building to the parking lot and front entrance. Despite the occasional scream and cry in the distance, it seemed the coast was clear in either direction, much to Assan’s relief.  
“Left,” Cassandra said quietly. “And stay close.”  
The group slowly crept around the building. Assan had never been more grateful to see a fenced in parking lot in his life. The last thing he wanted was to be some psycho’s dinner. Guards patrolled the perimeter of the fences, with machetes in one hand and a dim flashlight in the other. They crossed the lot at a brisk jog, constantly scanning the fenceline for signs of danger. Despite the formidable appearance of the barbed, chain-link fence, Assan could tell that it had only been erected recently. There were wheels spaced at regular intervals along the fenceline. With enough force, anyone could move the barriers, or knock them over.  
The guards at the gate stopped them briefly. They nodded grimly at them as they pulled the gate open enough to let them all out one at a time. Once the gate had shut behind them, Cassandra led the group single file along the fenceline towards the parking structure next door. She paused, flattening herself against the wall and motioning for the others to do the same. With her rifle in hand, she scanned the base level of the garage before motioning for them to move out once more.  
For the next several minutes, they ducked and hid behind walls and toppled-over vehicles and barriers as they zig-zagged through the streets. As chilling as it was to see everything so desolate, Assan was grateful for the lack of activity. The city had grown quiet now that night was falling. It seemed the darkness made most of the crazies seek shelter, or at least go dormant.  
The entire group jumped in alarm when they heard a terrifying shriek echo through the streets just ahead of them. The soldiers turned their safeties off and aimed into the surrounding darkness, some of them shaking slightly. Assan drew his own gun, practically trembling as Cassandra scanned the area for a place to hide. After a moment, she pointed her gun at the fire escape in the dead-end alley next to them. She kept Assan close to her, pushing him up the ladder first. Another scream made them jump again, this one joined by several others. A cacophony of hysterical laughter and cries began to fill the streets, turning Assan’s blood to ice in his veins.  
They were surrounded.  
“Move!” Cassandra barked, pushing him up the ladder faster. “Move! Move!”  
Heart racing, Assan scrambled up the ladders as fast as he could. The sound of stomping, stumbling feet rushing towards them echoed and bounced from wall to wall. He could hear people running inside of the building as well, hooting and howling like wild dogs on the hunt.  
A shriek and the sound of shattering glass from below made him freeze in his place. Assan looked down, his stomach lurching as he watched the last soldier climbing up the ladder disappear as he was dragged through a busted window by several pairs of eager hands. Cassandra shouted for him to keep moving and gave him another push. With an effort, he hauled himself up and over the edge of the roof and collapsed on the other side. He rested his forehead against the cold metal trim of the roof, desperately trying to not be sick as his heart hammered and he tried to steady his breathing.  
“Is everyone alright?” Cassandra looked around at her group, checking for any cuts or bites. Thankfully, everyone else seemed to be unharmed, if a bit shaken.  
“They got Jennings,” One of the other soldiers said. “This route’s supposed to be clear, Lady Cassandra. There shouldn’t be so many here!”  
“I know,” Cassandra said grimly. She reached for the walkie talkie at her hip and held it to her lips. “Alpha 1 to base. We have an emergency. Over.”  
There was several seconds of silence before a voice responded. “Base to Alpha 1. What’s the situation? Over.”  
“We’re trapped up on top of one of the apartment complexes on Second and Mullard, halfway between the hospital and the station. We need back up ASAP. We’re surrounded. Over.”  
Another silence pursued, this one agonizingly longer than the first. “Bravo team is en route, Alpha 1. E.T.A, ten minutes. Over.”  
Cassandra returned the walkie talkie to her hip and peered down over the edge of the roof. She swore under her breath and motioned to the building next door. “We’re not going to last ten minutes standing here. We need to move, now!”  
Assan jumped to his feet when he heard the creaking and rattling of the fire escape. Cassandra and the other soldiers took off off at a full sprint across the roof. One by one, they all leapt across the gap. Assan swore under his breath as he neared the edge. With a running jump, he cleared the gap and rolled to a stop on the other side. Cassandra hauled him to his feet, keeping her eyes focused on the building they had just leapt from.  
A man stood on the other side of the building, gauging the distance between them. Even in the dying light, Assan could see the blood splattered across his shirt and face. His eyes were practically bulging from his head, and he was missing an ear and several fingers off both hands. One of the bloody stumps was still dripping blood freely. He paced back and forth like a rabid animal, chest heaving as he chuckled and muttered incoherently to himself.  
“Nice jump, Rabbit!” The man laughed breathlessly. “Not good enough, though! I’ll be eating good tonight!”  
Assan raised his gun, a snarl forming on his lips as he turned the safety off. Without a second thought, he pulled the trigger. The man’s head jerked back as the bullet hit him square in the forehead. He teetered for a few seconds before falling forward into the alley below. More howling filled the streets. More infected began to fall over the lip onto the roof from the fire escape, hooting and cat calling at them as they crowded around the edge. With a few choice swears, Cassandra gave Assan’s arm a gentle tug.  
“Let’s keep moving,” She said. “They’re fast, but they can’t climb well, or jump. As long as we keep jumping rooftops, we should be fine.” They whipped around when they heard banging. The door to the roof access bounced in its frame several times. Cassandra swore again and motioned to the next building. “Let’s go, now!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry that this chapter took so long to get out to you. I've been drafting hte next several chapters, so uploads should be coming out a little more regularly as I get caught back up now that the holiday season is over. I hope you guys enjoyed this update!


	3. A Timely Inervenion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pinned down by a horde of infected, Assan and his escort must now wait for reinforcements to arrive, or try to make a run for safety.

_Word count: 2539_

The mask was making it harder to breathe. Every breath came in ragged and sharp, tearing at Assan's lungs. The last of the light had finally left them. Only the dim moonlight lit the rooftops. He was at the very front of the group beside Cassandra, chest heaving as he ran. All he wanted was to rip the damn mask off his face so he could breathe better, but Cassandra had convinced him that it wasn’t a good idea with so many infected around. Immune though he apparently was, he wasn’t willing to risk it, either.  
Behind the group, the infected pursuing them hooted and hollered as they gave chase. Their numbers had already shrunk over the last few minutes, but new ones were beginning to join in, climbing up the fire escapes and attempting to leap across the rooftops after them. Most of them seemed perfectly able to keep up. But those that suffered from maimed limbs would practically throw themselves off the rooftops and into the alleyways below, howling like madmen as they fell.  
“We’re way out of range for Bravo team to find us, Lady Cassandra!” One of the soldiers shouted. “We should turn back!”  
“If you haven’t seen them yet, Lieutenant, we have a pack of infected on our tail! Going back is not an option!” Cassandra replied.  
“We’ll miss the police station entirely at this rate! They’ll never find us then.”  
Cassandra did not respond. Instead, she changed directions. Assan almost fell as he skidded to a stop to follow her. She stopped before the roof access and kicked the door in. With her rifle, she motioned to the stairs. “Everyone in! Move it!”  
Assan darted through the door first, eager to take some sort of cover in the building. Taking the stairs two at a time, he bounded down the steps. He looked from side to side, his gun shaking in his hands as he scanned the hallway. They were in some sort of office building. The sign on the door directly in front of him hung crooked, advertising an office space for rent. Other than the moonlight filtering in from the busted windows, the building was dark and empty.  
The door to the rooftop slammed shut behind him as the last of the soldiers filed into the hallway from the stairwell. Cassandra forced the second door closed and motioned to the stairway on their left. Wordlessly, Assan and the others followed her down the stairs, guns at the ready.  
They could hear the infected outside the building, but it sounded as though they had yet to break through the doors to enter the building or begin descending the fire escapes. Perhaps they would be able to get away from the swarm after all.  
Cassandra paused for a moment on the second story, looking between the next stairwell down to the ground floor and the hallway they had just entered. After a moment of thinking, she pointed to the open office door down the hall on their right. Two soldiers proceeded forward, scanning the room before giving a silent thumbs up. The group entered the room, breathing sighs of relief as they collapsed on the floor of the dark board room.  
Assan wedged one of the chairs under the doorknob before collapsing to the floor. He ripped the gas mask from his face, taking several deep, gasping breaths. Sweat was pouring down his face and neck. Creators did it feel good to sit and rest for a moment! Wearily, he glanced over the rest of the group. The soldiers had followed his lead and settled in to sit and rest. Cassandra remained standing, content to check her soldiers over for any injuries first, handing out water bottles from her pack and patting her charges on their shoulders in silent praise.  
“How are you holding up?” She whispered as she knelt in front of him.  
Assan gratefully accepted the bottle of water from her and took a few large sips. “Breathless but alive, at least. How are we going to get out of this?”  
“I have to try and radio Bravo team, tell them where I think we are.” Cassandra’s face grew tense with worry as she looked over her group again. “I hope they have not been overwhelmed.”  
“And if they have?”  
“Then we are on our own.”  
Assan took another drink from his water bottle, a bitter taste filling his mouth. This was not where he had expected to find himself when he had woken up. The entire world had been turned upside down. But he was determined not to end up as a dish on a dinner buffet for a bunch of crazy assholes. They had to find the other group, one way or another.  
Cassandra walked to the far corner of the room as she pulled the radio from her hip. She held it up to her lips and spoke quietly. “Alpha 1 to Bravo 1. Over.”  
The radio was silent for several agonizing minutes before it crackled to life. Heads snapped up, staring at Cassandra with a mix of dread and hope. A man’s voice came through---a gruff, strained whisper.  
“Bravo 1 to Alpha 1. Where the hell are you guys? It’s crawling with freaks out here. Over.”  
A wave of relieved sighs swept the room. Assan sat up straighter. Was rescue close at hand? Cassandra smiled weakly as she answered. “The infected scaled the buildings. We fled west, on the rooftops. We’re in an office building. We need backup. Over.”  
“There’s just one small problem, Seeker. Over.”  
The room fell silent, a few men audibly groaned. Assan felt his stomach clench tight with fear. Were they really on their own? Cassandra’s face went blank as she prepared herself for the bad news. “What’s the problem? Over.”  
“We think we see your location, but you are definitely surrounded. The building is…” The radio crackled loudly. Cassandra clamped her hand over the radio to muffle the sound. “...drawing them…. Retreat. Over.”  
“Repeat that, Bravo 1. You're cutting out. Over,” Cassandra's face was beginning to lose color. She stared desperately at the radio in her hand as another silence persisted. “Bravo 1, do you copy? Over.”  
There was no answer. Assan felt his stomach tying itself in knots. So, they really were on their own in this, after all. He looked down at the bottle he held, surprised to find it trembling as his hands shook violently. This wasn't how he was hoping to go out, so far from home and all he knew.  
“What do we do now, Seeker?” One of the soldiers asked.  
“We rest for a moment longer.” Cassandra clipped the radio back to her hip and sat back against the wall. “If we are surrounded as they say, then we need to lay low until they get bored and wander off, or rescue comes.”  
Her answer didn’t seem to do much to bolster confidence. The soldiers sulked back down on the floor, the hopeful energy that had stirred them had left them just as quickly as it had come. Assan contented himself with idly fidgeting with the ties on his boots, listening for any signs of infected outside.  
The entire room froze when they heard a gunshot in the distance, followed by several more. Another terrible cacophony rose up from the infected outside as the noise drew their attention. Assan scooted closer to the rest of the group, holding his breath at the sound of shambling feet out in the hallway. Every gun in the room was now aimed at the doorway as they waited anxiously for the infected to pass by.  
The gunshots continued, coming in random bursts. By the sound of them, they were heading south, and quickly. They could vaguely make out the shadows of the infected running by the room through the blinds in the window. A few of the soldiers had to clamp their hands over their mouths and noses to keep themselves quiet.  
Assan eyed the lone chair propped up underneath the door handle anxiously. Cassandra seemed to have noticed their meager fortifications as well, but neither of them dared move from their huddled position. If so much as one infected heard them, they wouldn’t be able to keep them back forever.  
After what felt like hours of listening to the shouting and shuffling of feet, the hallway finally fell silent. The gunshots had faded into the distance. That seemed to dishearten Cassandra and the soldiers more than the prospect of being trapped. Had their rescue party fallen victim to the horde?  
“What do we do now?” Assan asked.  
“We stay put,” Cassandra whispered. “We need to barricade the door and wait for Bravo team to find us. Moving may prove to be more dangerous than staying put now that they’ve been stirred up again. ”  
Without a word, the soldiers grabbed the overturned conference table and braced it against the door. Next, they piled up the rest of the chairs behind it and in front of the window. Once their task was complete, they settled back down to wait.

The night dragged on painfully slow. They couldn’t speak, let alone move. The hours spent sitting had made Assan’s legs and back stiff from lack of movement. His stomach had been growling at him for at least an hour, but he was too afraid of making noise to reach into his pack for the emergency rations. The soldiers seemed to share the same fear.  
Four times now, Cassandra had made a move to inspect the hallway. And each time she began to move, they would hear eager hobbling outside the hallway as whatever diseased maniac that was nearby heard the noise. After the final failed attempt to see if the coast was clear, she gave up and returned to staring at the radio tightly gripped in her hands with her gun in her lap.  
Occasionally, one of the infected would bang at the door curiously, muttering incoherently to themselves before giving up when it didn’t budge. Without fail, every gun in the room was quickly aimed at the doorway, a silent dread taking hold of the group as they waited… and waited.  
“How much longer will we wait for them, Lady Cassandra?” One of the soldiers asked quietly. She looked to her commander desperately, awaiting an answer. Cassandra swept her gaze over the group, taking in how despaired everyone was quickly becoming. Assan couldn’t blame them; he was beginning to lose faith himself.  
Cassandra checked her watch before opening her mouth to speak. Before she could utter a word, there was a sudden gunshot from somewhere above them. The group jumped in alarm. One of the soldiers clamped his hands over his mouth to stifle a yelp. Several pairs of eyes stared at him in abject horror as the muffled scream seemed to echo in the room.  
From the hallway, they could hear the infected stirring from their stupor again. There were several hoots and cries as they began to run through the hallway once more. At first, the infected simply passed by the room, heading for the stairs to investigate the sudden noise. But one lone straggler seemed to have heard the soldier’s cry and began to pound angrily on the door.  
Other infected began to join in. Assan’s hands began to tremble again as he trained his gun at the door. He could see it straining against the hinges now as they continued their assault. A few chairs fell from the pile. The table seemed to be holding for the moment, but Assan was doubtful it would hold for much longer. With every strike, it slid out ever so slightly from the doorknob.  
More gunshots came from above them. They could hear bodies falling down the stairs now, loud and heavy. Suddenly, the radio crackled to life as the man from earlier voiced a single warning.  
“Bravo 1 to Alpha 1! Take cover!”  
Before Cassandra could answer, the whole building shook as a small explosion went off somewhere out in the hallway, knocking everyone off their feet. A bright light flashed outside the room, followed by the smell of burning flesh. The pounding at the door ceased, and everything was quiet for a moment. Assan coughed a few times as he shook off the daze. His ears were ringing, and his head swam violently for a moment.  
“Get the barricades moved!” Cassandra ordered as she jumped to her feet. With sudden vigor, the soldiers jumped to action, clearing everything from the doorway. They all stood with their guns at the ready, waiting and listening. There was a sudden thundering of heavy footsteps in the hallway again, followed by a few more gunshots.  
Something slammed hard against the door three times in quick succession The lock gave way and the table skidded back several inches as the door swung open. A lone dwarf stood in the doorway, holding what looked like a giant crossbow in his hands.  
“A little bird told me that you needed rescue, Seeker.” The dwarf grinned as his gaze rested on Cassandra. She made a somewhat dramatic sound of disgust as she lowered her gun.  
“You’re late, Varric,” Cassandra scowled, but not enough to hide the obvious relief in her voice.  
“You had practically half the town on your tail. Took quite a bit of effort to get the horde split up enough for us to make a move.” Varric rested his crossbow on his shoulder and puffed out his chest slightly, seeming pleased with himself.  
“Where is Solas?” Cassandra asked.  
“He’ll be here soon; he led---” Varric looked down at his hip as his radio crackled. A man’s voice came through, anxiously and tense.

“Varric, have you found them? Over”  
“Speak of the devil,” Varric muttered. He grabbed the radio from its holster. “They’re safe, Chuckles. Have you lost the horde? Over.”  
“Where is Cassandra? Over.” The man demanded, somewhat urgently.  
“I am here, Solas,” Cassandra answered. “Is your team okay?”  
“We are safe,” Solas answered. “Is the prisoner alive?”  
“Yes, he lives.”  
“We need him, quickly. we’ve made a very… unwelcome discovery Seeker.”  
“Another horde?”  
“No.” There was a brief pause as if Solas was searching for words. “It is a machine, like the one at the temple, only much smaller.”  
Cassandra seemed lost for words. She opened and closed her mouth several times before she finally regained her composure. “Are you certain, Solas? We’ve done thorough sweeps of the area already.”  
“And yet you were ambushed by a horde.” Solas’ answer brought a scowl to Cassandra’s face. “I believe this machine was placed here recently. This area _was_ thoroughly swept recently, and this machine was not mentioned in the report.”  
“About how far do you think the gas will spread, Chuckles?” Varric asked. “You didn’t mention the machine earlier.”  
“That is where it gets hard to explain. It would be easier to explain when you get here, with the prisoner. Over” And with a final crackle, the radio fell silent. Cassandra and Varric exchanged worried glances before turning their attention back to Assan. Assan stared back at them, a sinking feeling in his stomach. What did this machine have to do with him?


	4. The Machine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trouble seems determined to keep up with Assan as the group makes their way to Solas to investigate the machine he's found. Little do they know that their fight for their lives is not yet over.

Assan paced anxiously back and forth across the alley as he waited for Varric and Cassandra to return from the rooftops. Even with their numbers bolstered from seven to fifteen, he didn’t like lingering in the area for so long. After their escape from the office building, the streets had become eerily quiet. And with both teams now slightly spread out patrolling the perimeter, he felt like a sitting duck.

Varric had seemed confident that the explosion had scared off most of the infected in the area, but Assan was not convinced. Cassandra had assured him things would be safe before they departed the hospital, and that had quickly proven to be false. He wasn’t willing to be fooled again.

“Relax, will you? You’re making me nervous just watching you,” One of the three soldiers assigned to watch him, Blanchard, told Assan. “They aren’t just going to start falling from the sky, you know.”

“After everything that just happened, relaxing isn’t exactly on the top of my list,” Assan replied. Even now that he knew he was safe for the moment, he still couldn’t keep still. Every whisper, every sound sent his heart racing and his hand reaching for his gun. 

He jumped when someone placed a hand firmly on his shoulder. Twisting out of their grip, Assan spun on his heels to face them. The soldier that had comforted him in the hospital earlier was holding out a flask, an expectant look on her face. “Here, this will help calm your nerves,” She said. When he made no move to take it, she slowly grabbed him by the wrist and wrapped his fingers around it. “Drink. You’ll feel better.”

Assan gave in and slowly raised the flask to his lips. The scent of whiskey hit his nose as he took a small swig. He shuddered as the warm drink hit his stomach. He took one more swig before handing back the flask. As the whiskey settled, his hands began to stop trembling, and his nerves began to steady themselves once more. 

“Thank you,” Assan said quietly. He shuffled his feet sheepishly. It wasn't often he lost his nerve like that. “I’m just... a little shaken up.”

“We all are,” The soldier smiled. Assan couldn’t help but smile back. She seemed so genuinely concerned about him, something he hadn’t expected from a human, especially after the day he’d had. "We didn't get to learn your name."

"Assan."

"You can call me Kat. Everyone does. I'm-"

The radio at her hip crackled to life. A panicked voice began to speak in a rushed, frantic tone. "Kat? Kat, can you hear me? Over."

Kat snatched the radio and held it to her lips. "This is Kat. What's the situation, Monet? Over."

"Tell Lady Cassandra we see movement in the streets. We need to move out, quickly. We're falling back now. Over."

Blanchard and the other soldier jumped to their feet. Before Kat could begin to climb the fire escape, Cassandra and Varric started their descent. The rest of the squad began to return from their patrols, weapons in hand. 

"We've got company on the way, Lady Cassandra," Kat told Cassandra as she reached the ground.

"They'll have to catch us, first," Varric said. "It's a straight shot from here to the mall, and the path is relatively clear. If we keep gunfire to a minimum, we should be able to get through with little trouble." 

  
  


Assan had little experience with dwarves. The ones he had met were twitchy, nervous ones, jumping at their own shadows with an irrational fear of falling upwards into the sky. But this dwarf, Varric, was the opposite. He seemed relatively normal, if a bit of a smartass and a smooth talker. And, given their current situation, Assan decided that this dwarf was also full of shit. 

A large group of infected were hot on their heels, as freinzied as could be. Their shouts and curses echoed through the streets, making it sound like they were pouring in from all around. Cassandra had taken up position at the back of the group, keeping the stragglers on the move. Varric had taken the lead with Assan, albeit not much of one. The dwarf was struggling to keep up with everyone, especially with his ridiculous crossbow slung over his back.

“What happened to ‘we should get through with little trouble, Dwarf?” Assan spat as he hurtled over an overturned trash can. “I thought you said they’d dispersed!”

“Well, they certainly  _ looked _ like they had; I’m not all seeing,” Varric replied. 

“At this rate, we’ll be leading them right to the others; not sure they’ll appreciate the extra guests.” Assan had to skid to a stop as Varric stopped and turned around. He quickly loaded something into his crossbow. Assan bounced on his feet as the others began to run by them, seeming eager to get out of Varric's line of sight. “What are you doing?!”

“Keep up with the others; I’ll handle our friends, here.” Varric took aim and shot a bolt into the chest of one of the infected. She staggered backwards, shrieking in agony as she tried to pull the bolt free. The other infected stopped as a high pitched beeping started. 

“Bomb!” One of the infected cried. They began to scatter as their wounded companion fell to her knees. Varric grabbed Assan by the arm and ran again. 

“Let’s go, Kid!” He said. “We gotta get out of range!” Assan sprinted forward with renewed vigor, thankful for the sudden distraction. They were barely a block away before the bolt detonated. The ground shook beneath their feet as a cloud of dust and debris flew into the air. Small bits of asphalt pelted them. Varric laughed breathlessly as he glanced over his shoulder. “That had to hurt!” He taunted. 

In response, he got several enraged howls. A few infected began to stumble through the haze, but the majority had turned tail to flee. Varric didn’t bother trying to fire again. Only once they had caught up with the others did the soldiers begin to pick off the stragglers still pursuing them. 

It wasn’t long before the streets had fallen silent again and they were alone once more. The only sounds aside from the occasional cry from the shadows around them was the sound of heavy boots on the pavement. Assan kept his gun handy, but finally switched the safety back on. For the first time all night, he felt somewhat secure. 

They had slowed to a fast walk with Varric at the lead once more, looking around the parking lot for any signs of the rest of his group. Cassandra was close at his heels, seeming more eager than ever to bolster their numbers yet again. The two were bickering quietly back and forth about something inconsequential. Assan found the sight amusing, like children arguing over nonsense.

A flash of light up ahead at the edge of one of the buildings caught everyone's attention. Assan's heart skipped a beat; had they found the others? Cassandra flashed a quick response and picked up the pace. Several more lights appeared, guiding the way. As they drew near. Assan could make out the silhouettes of soldiers holding up flashlights. 

An elven man strode out to greet them, a ghostly werelight floating above his head. In his hands was a sleek metal staff, tipped with a serrated blade. Even in the faint light, Assan could see all the blood caked to it. He shook Cassandra's hand, a strained smile breaking through his very serious frown. He regarded Varric with a polite nod. 

“I am glad Varric got to you in time, Lady Cassandra," The elf said. 

“As am I, surprisingly," Cassandra replied. “Perhaps you could better explain what exactly you have found, Solas?”

“And why the hell I’m mixed up in it?” Assan muttered to himself.

Solas looked over at him. He raised a single eyebrow, seeming both curious and concerned. Assan shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. "There is much to tell you all. Let us get off the streets before more infected find us. We will be safer inside.”

They followed Solas across the empty parking lot and into the mall complex. Assan breathed a silent sigh of relief as the side door they entered shut firmly behind them. Solas instructed them all to put their masks on. But when Assan moved to put his on, Solas stopped him. 

“No; you will not need yours. This is just a precaution for the others,” Solas told him. 

“We still aren’t sure if he is truly immune, Solas,” Cassandra protested. 

“He would be dead right now if he weren’t.” Solas did not seem to notice the frown twitching at Cassandra’s lips. “You found him in the thickest of the Gas, did you not? The other three survivors we found in the temple all succumbed to illness, yet he remains unaffected. There is no denying it; our friend here holds the key to our salvation in his blood. 

Cassandra relented. “I will trust your judgment, Solas.”

“Thank you, Lady---”

“---But,” Cassandra added, “should anything happen to the prisoner, it is on your head.” 

Solas seemed surprised by the harshness of her words. He merely nodded in answer and spun on his heels. “The machine is this way, in the central plaza. If we are as lucky as I think we are, it is too damaged to activate as the ones in the temple had.” 

“So this will not be a threat?” Cassandra seemed to relax slightly.

“I can guarantee you nothing, yet,” Solas said. He led on in silence, his grim expression making Assan nauseous. He wasn’t sure how much more mystery and sense of impending doom he could take. 

They passed through what had once been a clothes shop. Clothing and other merchandise littered the floor. Lights and wiring dangled from portions of the ceiling where the tiles had fallen to the floor. The mannequins spread throughout the building were eerie shadows lurking in the gloom. It was hard to believe that only a few days ago, this place had probably been full of shoppers. To him, it looked like the place hadn’t been touched in months. 

The rest of the mall seemed to be in varying states of disrepair. Some stores seemed to have escaped the worst of the damage the shockwave caused. Others were practically falling in on themselves. Portions of the ceiling had collapsed inwards. The glass ceilings high above them had all shattered, littering the ground with shards of glass that crunched loudly underfoot. 

Solas stopped them as they neared the archway to the main plaza. He looked back at Assan before proceeding to the railing that overlooked the floor below. “Remove your gloves.”

Assan did as he was told, somewhat glad to be rid of them. They mark on his hand had begun to itch furiously. His heart skipped a few beats as he pulled them off. The scar was emitting a dim green light that faintly illuminated his arm. He flexed his hand, trying to shake the numb, tingly feeling.  _ What in the world…? _

“Maker’s Breath, your hand….” Cassandra gasped. The other soldiers had noticed the glow as well, and a wave of mutters and gasps swept through the group. Solas looked back, his eyes widening as he noticed the glow. He quickly closed the gap and seized Assan’s hand, examining it with a very serious face. They all jumped when they heard the sound of fans kicking on and a low whirring sound filled the air.

“The machine is stirring,” Solas said as he looked over his shoulder. “Quickly, we must get you closer. If this machine is still operable, we could figure out a way to stop the others.”

Solas dragged Assan with him back to the railing. Assan tentatively peered over the edge, down at the large machine now dominating what once had been a resting and dining area. The base resembled a generator, with many thick cables and wires strewn across the floor around it. There was a small terminal on one side, with a keypad and a screen. A giant glass capsule sat atop the base, filled with a thick, swirling green fog that looked a little too familiar for comfort. The longer he stared, the more his palm began to itch and spasm. He scratched furiously at the scar, gritting his teeth as the sensation slowly spread across his palm and down into his wrist. 

“Maker preserve us….” Cassandra said as she beheld the machine. “How did our scouts possibly miss this?”

“They didn’t; this is a recent addition. Notice how clean the machine is compared to the area around it, and the tracks where they dragged the tubing across the floor? Someone was here without our knowing,” Solas said grimly. “We must ensure this machine does not activate.” 

“But how?” Varric asked. “I don’t suppose there is a safe way to dispose of all that gas in that chamber?”

Solas did not answer, he merely gave Assan’s hand another look over before starting for the stairs, dragging Assan along with him. “Come with me. The machine reacted to your presence; let us see what happens when you get closer. Perhaps we can find a way to disarm it.” 

“Wait! You don’t know what will happen if we get any closer!” Kat latched on to Assan’s arm as he passed by her. Solas loosened his grip, but did not release his other arm. “Lady Cassandra, you can’t let him do this. He could kill us all!”

“What do you hope to accomplish, Solas?” Cassandra asked. She crossed her arms, seeming to share her lieutenant’s concerns. Assan was somewhat grateful for the intervention. He was less than eager to see the machine up close. What if the machine caused another shockwave, or released the gas in the chamber? He didn’t want more trouble on his hands. 

“The machine did nothing when I first approached it. I looked it up and down, inspected every inch of it that I could without disturbing it. But there was one part of the machine that drew my eye that I believed held the key to activating it.” Solas paused to make sure he had her full attention before continuing. “There is a crystal set within the control panel, charged with a strange magic. I could not break the spell, nor discern how to activate it or disarm it. I believe that whatever placed the mark upon our friend’s hand is tied to these machines, and the magic that helped create them. We must find out if we are to have any hope of destroying the one in the temple.” 

Cassandra glowered at him for a moment as she mulled over his words. Assan’s heart jumped into his throat when her shoulders drooped. “Do your test and be done with it, Solas. I want to get the prisoner back to the station by morning.”

Kat let go of Assan’s arm reluctantly. Solas continued on guiding him down the stairs. The closer they got to the machine, the more terrified Assan grew. His heart was hammering against his ribs in a frenzy. The lights along the machine flickered on, and the whirring grew louder. Solas stopped before the terminal and clicked a few buttons on the keypad, seeming hopeful. Even Assan was anxious to see if they could manage to disarm the machine.

But nothing happened.

“This is bizarre,” Solas muttered as he looked over the machine. “I thought for sure there would be some sort of reaction….”

"Is this the crystal you mentioned?" Assan asked as he peered over Solas' shoulder. There was a small red crystal mounted into the terminal, shielded by thick glass. Just looking at it made him feel odd. He glanced about when he heard whispers from the shadows, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. No one else seemed to have heard it. Curious, he reached out and placed his hand on the glass to see if he might be able to smash through it. Maybe the crystal was the key? If he could just remove it….

Assan flinched as a sudden spark jolted up his arm. He yelped in surprise, attempting to pull his hand away. But the bolt of energy that was now dancing across the surface of the crystal held him in place. The machine roared to life, and the gas began to swirl about ominously in the capsule. Solas’ face blanched. 

“Brace yourselves!” He shouted. 

Another jolt of energy rippled up his arm, this one stronger than the first. Assan cried out as the mark began to throb horribly. A low pulse shook the ground beneath his feet, growing stronger as the seconds passed. The machine stopped it’s whirring and whistling. Solas waited on bated breath, watching the machine with a mix of dread and awe. 

With a deafening boom, the machine discharged all its stored energy. Were it not for the force holding him in place, Assan would have flown backward with the shockwave as the others did. The gas escaped the capsule with a dreadful, sinister hiss. Assan renewed his desperate tugging, wanting nothing more than to be free of the machine’s hold. Every second only made the scar hurt worse. It felt like his very bones were on fire, radiating up his entire arm now. 

As the last of the gas escaped, the crystal went dim, and his arm was freed. He staggered backward, clutching his hand as it continued to burn and throb. The capsule, despite having emptied its contents, had continued to glow an ominous green. Bolts of energy danced along the glass capsule now, sparking and crackling. Assan watched the machine warily, unsure of what it might do next.

Solas picked himself up off the ground, coughing slightly. He staggered to the machine, examining it closely before turning his attention back to Assan. With a vice grip, he pulled Assan back to the machine. “What did you do? How did you activate the machine?” 

“I don’t know, I swear!” Assan stammered. “It just latched on to my arm and wouldn’t let go! I didn't know that would happen!” 

The soldiers up above had their guns all trained on him now, awaiting orders from Cassandra, who was busy calling in yet more reinforcements. Varric was staring down at the machine with a mix of dread and despair. It seemed Assan was right back to where he had started the day off at; held at gunpoint. 

Before Solas could ask Assan more, a terrible shriek echoed from somewhere in the mall---and it sounded close. Assan felt the blood rush from his face as he turned in a slow circle. “What the hell was that?”

"I'm not sure," Solas answered. He gripped his staff tighter as the sound of shuffling feet in the dark floated down the hallway to their right. "But we are not alone." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Hope you've enjoyed the last few chapters! I've been getting into a more regular writing schedule for this and a few other short length fics that should start popping up soon! Thanks to all who've stuck around so far!


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